Something I Need
by teamdemonmonkey
Summary: When Golden Stag Holdings offers a business transaction to Dire Wolf Industries, they can hardly say no. Instead they send their best risk analyst to try and find a way out of it. Sansa Stark expected only to be looking at the books. So what is she going to do when she finds herself distracted by liaison, Tyrion Lannister?The much anticipated modern Tyrion/Sansa.
1. Thistle and Weeds

**Hey guys! **

**So it's here! Finally, right?! I watched the first episode of season 4 (don't worry no spoilers) and figured, what the hell? I should just get to posting and writing. Because Tyrion! Sansa! Together! That's the epitome of perfect (though I did find myself impressed by some of those Sandor/Sansa fics. No judgments. Power to the writers.) **

**The fic title is Something I Need which is the song by OneRepublic. Just love the dynamic of the song. **

**The song title for this chapter is Thistle and Weeds by Mumford and Sons (yeah, that hasn't changed. I will love them always). **

**As always, you can connect with me!  
Twitter: teamdemonmonkey  
Facebook: teamdemonmonkey fanfiction**

**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard.**

Chapter One: Thistle and Weeds

Sansa took a deep breath, willing her thoughts into tidy boxes and straightening her blouse and skirt. She stayed still for a minute and then pushed open the doors to the conference room. At the long, industrial oak table, she saw her brother's best friend and VP of Dire Wolf Industries, Theon Greyjoy, reclined with his feet up on the table, chatting into his Bluetooth. Upon seeing her enter, he said goodbye and ended the call.

"Sansa! Great job on the Dorn account. That was a great catch you made. Definitely one for the record books." She smiled and waved him off, taking a seat across the table from him.

"It wasn't so difficult. They were a bit anxious about the merger so I just did what I do best. It was a simple matter of crunching numbers." He shook his head.

"You should take more credit than that. You sealed a deal that your bother himself was going to lose. Uncle Robert will no doubt call you himself to congratulate you." She shifted uncomfortably.

"I highly doubt that. Uncle Robert doesn't seem to have time for much of anything… professional lately." Theon laughed heartily but Sansa felt her stomach turn. She had a bad feeling about this meeting.

"What in the hell is so funny?" Sansa turned happily to the sound of her big brother's voice and smiled in relief. As far as big brothers went, Sansa had gotten lucky with Robb. He respected her and didn't use nepotism to staff his company. He came in, handsome in his Armani suit, and hugged her tightly around the shoulders. "Great job with Dorn, Sansa. Dad was really impressed."

"Thanks, Robb. Should we get down to business?" Robb rolled his eyes at her and then sat down.

"You better not start without me," Sansa's mother said from the doorway, sharp as ever in her business suit.

"Of course not, Mother. Have a seat." Robb seemed annoyed and on edge about their mother's presence. Catelyn sat down next to Sansa and grabbed her hand fondly. Sansa smiled at her mother.

"Okay, down to business. Father called this morning and told me that Golden Stag is going to make an offer to buy out our stock in Valeryian Steel. He doesn't like it but I guess Uncle Robert is pushing it on him. So he wants us to continue as usual while looking out for any reason to back out of this."

"Okay, I guess I can start going over their financials today," Sansa said, confused about why Robb was telling her this in a private meeting with only his VP and their mother present. It was a kind of assignment she'd get at the weekly board meeting.

"Uncle Robert," Robb said, jaw tight and eyes hard, "has requested that you spend your time at Golden Stag to do all your necessary work. Father didn't say too much but I guess he thinks that Robert's got some crazy idea about you going and working for them when they buy out Dragon Stone." Sansa's blood ran cold.

"No," Catelyn said. "Absolutely not. I know what it's like over there. Robert's got his self brat of a son, Joffrey, running things and has absolutely no control over anything that goes on there. His wife, Cersei, allows him to run wild. There have been more job terminations and harassment suits against that boy in one month than all the other companies in Westeros Worldwide combined. That includes his depraved uncle, and we both know he's a walking sexual harassment. She won't go there. She's worked too hard for too long to be torn down and bullied by the Lannisters and the Baratheons."

"Mother, you know that I would love to keep Sansa here and tell Joffrey and Cersei Baratheon to shove this transaction up their asses, but Father made it perfectly clear that Robert isn't giving on this. We have to at least play along for now until we can find a legitimate reason to refuse. We can't fight the entire company. Cersei's father is the CEO of Lionheart Incorporated and he and Cersei provide the most business to Night's Watch Security. To anger one of them is to anger all of them. It's a political nightmare. We have to send Sansa to Golden Stag for the time being. There is no other choice."

"I don't like this," Catelyn repeated. Sansa shook herself from her miserable thoughts and squared her shoulders.

"That doesn't matter. I'm going." Catelyn made to protest but Sansa silenced her. "No. I'm a professional. This is my job. When the CEO of your parent company assigns you something, you do it. Now that being said, I am going to do everything in my power to find a way out of this transaction. The Lannisters are tied with us for holding most shares in Valeryian Steel. If Golden Stag gets it, that would mean the Lannisters control the majority of the company and that is unacceptable. We helped build that company up; we are not going to feed it to insatiable lions who don't care about the jobs or the people." Robb nodded proudly and Catelyn stared at her silently.

"I'll send their HR department all the paperwork. Take the week off. You don't need to be there before Monday. They can wait that long to have you. But you let me know if anything unprofessional happens, anything at all."

"I will, Robb. I'm a professional. No, I'm _the_ professional. I won't let Joffrey Baratheon or Cersei Lannister dig their claws into us that easily. I'm a Stark, after all." She laughed half heartedly and then stood, gathering her briefcase and nodding to her family and Theon. She walked out of the conference room confidently, listening to her mother argue with Robb again before closing the doors, climbing into her car and finally breaking down against the cold leather of the steering wheel.

She knew she wasn't coming back from Golden Stag. She would do everything she could to find illegitimacies –she'd suspected someone in the company of fraud for years –but she had heard the stories from other companies under Westeros Worldwide. They had lost people, good people, to Golden Stag Holdings and Lionheart Incorporated without so much as a goodbye or thank you. The Lannisters were a major share holder in the company and Robert had married into that family with the intent to build an even stronger, better , more powerful company. Now he spent his time sleeping around, golfing and drinking. And the golfing was only when there was someone there to impress. He hadn't been involved in the actual running of the company in years. Her father, Ned, was left with task, attempting to keep everyone civil and things to run smoothly. Sansa had no doubt that this new transaction was an idea of Cersei's –or her father's passed through her –whispered into Robert's ear when he was past inebriated or annoyed to the point of doing whatever she said just to stop her nagging.

One thing Sansa knew for sure was that she wouldn't join the faceless mass of people who had been torn apart thanks to the Lannisters. She was putting her foot down and taking a stand. She was one of the most reputable risk analysts in the country. If her Uncle couldn't respect that then she would find a company who could.

With that thought she pulled out into traffic and headed to her loft to curl up in front of the television with a bottle of wine and some tissues.


	2. Bad Blood

**Chapter Two! Woohoo! Amazed as usual by the response to this story. I knew I was making ya'll wait but it's been phenomenal. **

**So let's meet Tyrion shall we?**

**The song for this chapter is Bad Blood by Bastille. Can't you just see this in movie form and Tyrion coming into the office like this?!**

**As always, you can connect with me!****  
****Twitter: teamdemonmonkey****  
****Facebook: teamdemonmonkey fanfiction**

**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard.**

Chapter Two: Bad Blood

Hell. Sansa was in pure, unadulterated Hell.

She watched in silence as members of Golden Stag Holdings wandered into the conference room, waiting in awkward silence for them to begin while the CEO, Joffrey, watched her with a predatory grin. He oozed slime and charm equally and even if she hadn't already been warned away from him, she wouldn't have liked him anyways. So she sat awkwardly, only smiling when Joffrey's VP, Loras Tyrell, came in. Loras's younger sister, Margaery, was her best friend since getting a job in Westeros Worldwide. That was the only time she wasn't completely uncomfortable with sitting at the long table, feeling like an outsider and a piece of meat. Joffrey kept shooting her suggestive glances and she could feel the light breakfast she had forced down trying to come back up.

Once all the chairs at the table were filled, she looked to the head of the table where Joffrey was sitting impatiently. She looked around as people murmured to their neighbors wondering what they were waiting on. Finally the doors burst open and she turned, biting back her surprise.

The man standing in the doorway was literally not who she had been expecting. His short frame looked bone tired. His suit was crumpled, like it had spent all night on the floor and then got put back on. His eyes were obscured by sunglasses and his hair was a raging case of bed head. He staggered over to a chair across from Sansa and climbed onto it tiredly, sighing when he was finally settled.

"Now that the Great Disappointment is here, we can get started. I'd like to first welcome Sansa Stark," Joffrey said, gesturing to Sansa. "She's a risk analyst from Wolf. She's here to do her work for the Valeryian buyout. Hopefully we can make a good impression on her. We don't want this one to get away." Everyone laughed awkwardly as Sansa sat, cheeks reddening with humiliation and anger. Had he really just suggested that she was going to stay at Stag after the buyout? And to mention the buyout as though the deal was already done, the stocks already purchased!

"I'm not sure whether your expression means that I should welcome you to the company or tell you to run while you can," the late man across from her mumbled quietly. She turned her eyes to his face and saw that he had removed the sunglasses. His eyes were blue and oddly kind. The right side of his face revealed a slight scar running from his cheek to above his eyebrow. She wasn't sure who he was or what his intentions were but she decided to play it safe.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," she whispered politely.

"Please. My nephew basically just announced to all the important people in the company that you'll be one of our new employees after we buy out your family's shares in a company you built from the ground up. If that's good news, then welcome; stick around. If that sounds like the most horrific thing you've ever heard, I would suggest you stand up and leave this meeting and never come back. He will still buy you out but at least you won't be stuck here." He stared at her appraisingly. "Unless you're here because Joff's father demanded it." Her mouth twitched with a frown. "Ah, I see now. 'Uncle Robert' wants this transaction to take place. And he wants you here at Stag, not at Wolf. He's attempting to match make one of your families greatest assets to his son's company."

"I am here to assess the risks and benefits of this transaction. I am going to do my work and then go back to my company. Meanwhile, you will continue to come in to meetings late and not pay attention. I'm surprised you still have a job."

"It's hard to fire someone who isn't under your employ," he said languidly. She frowned. "Dear little Joffrey there is my nephew. I'm Tyrion Lannister. I'm the liaison for Lionheart. So he can't fire me. As much as he and my sister wish they could." Sansa sat back, shocked by the candor that this man was offering her in a room full of people who seemed too scared to say anything. She was offended by his complete lack of caring. He couldn't even be bothered to show up for his job in clean clothes.

"Imp," Joff's voice called from down the table. "Would you care to stop trying to pick up a woman completely out of your league and tell us about what is going on at my grandfather's company?" Tyrion sighed and sat back, rattling off names and numbers while Sansa studiously avoided eye contact with everyone.

The meeting ended an hour and a half later and Sansa stood awkwardly, waiting outside the room for someone to show her where her workspace was. People walked past her, some throwing her curious looks while others avoided her completely.

"So are we looking at Golden Stag's brand new risk analyst," a voice murmured in her ear. She turned in relief.

"Margaery," she sighed gratefully. "No. I'm not. Though Tyrion Lannister tried to convince me to give up now."

"Actually, I believe I told you to run for the hills," he said, exiting the conference room, eyes locked on a folder in his hands.

"Good morning, Tyrion. How was the benefit last night?" He looked up and smiled charmingly at Margaery.

"It was good. I saw that you left early." She laughed charmingly.

"Yes. Grandmother became rather bored. I think it was the clowns." Tyrion laughed.

"Yes, my sister doesn't always understand that clowns are disgustingly terrifying. That and the people coming to the fundraiser were over the age of three," Tyrion said cynically. "Now how do you know this charming woman here," he asked, gesturing to Sansa.

"We've been friends since college. Our last semester, senior year, we had a business class together."

"Interesting. Well, Sansa, if you need anything at all, come find me." He walked away and Margaery turned to Sansa, her brow raised.

"Shall we go to lunch," she offered innocently.

"So what's going on between you and Tyrion Lannister," Margaery asked later, seated in Sansa's office chair.

"Nothing. I met him this morning."

"Oh don't think that I didn't notice the tension between you two. He was being all charming and you stood there like a statue!"

"He is absolutely unprofessional! He showed up late. His clothes are in a horrible state. He said that they can't fire him so he can do whatever he wants. I've never met someone whose risk so greatly outweighs their benefits."

"Really, Sansa? Analyst jargon." Margaery's eyes were not amused.

"It's true. He is the worst employee I've ever seen. I can't believe that they allow him to stay."

"You shouldn't discount him so quickly. He's fiercely loyal," Margaery defended.

"He kissed three different women at lunch," Sansa deadpanned. Margaery laughed.

"Yes. It must be an off day for him," Margaery mused. Sansa's eyes widened comically and Margaery burst out laughing.

"That was not funny," she told Margaery.

"I think it's intriguing that you take so much interest in how unprofessional he is. Actually, I think it's interesting that you have already done risk assessments on him. You usually don't unless you're interested in someone."

"He… is… an employee," Sansa defended. "He is part of this transaction. Therefore, I have to do an assessment on him the same way I would any employee here."

"Mmmhmmm," Margaery agreed sarcastically. Sansa huffed and threw a stress toy at her. "Okay, okay, I'm going. I have a meeting with Grandmother in a half hour and I'm not going to stick around so you can throw things at me for being right about _Tyrion_," she teased and Sansa shook her head, keeping her eyes focused on her computer.

She was most definitely _not_ intrigued by Tyrion Lannister.

At all.


	3. Get Lucky

**So this chapter was a little weird. I had a hard time picking a song and then I wasn't sure where it was going. **

**The song is Get Lucky by Daft Punk. This is a suitable song to play at a bar while friends share secrets, right?**

**As always, you can connect with me!****  
****Twitter: teamdemonmonkey****  
****Facebook: teamdemonmonkey fanfiction**

**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard.**

Chapter Three: Get Lucky

"Congratulations on surviving the Stag for a whole week," Margaery exclaimed, raising her margarita glass in toast. Sansa laughed and raised her white wine to clink it against her friend's.

"It wasn't too bad," Sansa confessed. "Joffrey was too distracted by the merger with Oberyn to really give me any attention. Although Cersei dropped in to hint –not too subtly, I might add –that I was going to be a permanent addition to the GSH family. That was terrifying. She's like some sort of predator, trying to sink her claws into me."

"Cersei is a real piece of work. But wouldn't you be if your daddy was one of the most powerful men in the business world, had trained you in all things related to the running of the company and then refused to let you inherit? When Tywin Lannister announced that he was leaving Jaime the company, I thought Cersei was going to murder him on the spot." She took a healthy gulp of her drink.

"Well, I'm going to steer clear of her. She looks at me like I'm what's for dinner." Sansa shuddered and Margaery giggled.

"And what about her brother," Margaery asked with an exaggerated eye brow lift. The margarita was kicking in.

"If you're referring to Tyrion, my opinion remains the same. He is irresponsible, unprofessional, inappropriate and presumptuous."

"Inappropriate? You_ must_ be talking about me," a voice said behind her. She turned and grinned, flinging herself into the strong arms of the man behind her.

"Renly, you don't give yourself enough credit," Margaery teased. Renly laughed, releasing Sansa.

"You've grown since last I saw you," he exclaimed.

"You still look the same. How was Los Angeles? Did you dine with the stars and break hearts?" Renly snorted.

"Hardly. Though six months in the sun has improved my tan."

"Why don't you tell her about your date with Kate Moss," Loras said, coming behind Renly. "She spent all evening trying to convince him to go straight."

"Hardly, darling. I gave her lips for her fashion line."

"What are you two doing here," Sansa asked, gesturing for them to sit.

"We have dinner reservations in an hour," Loras explained. "But enough about us. Tell us how your first week was at my company."

"Fine. Although…"

"What," Renly asked, eager for any gossip she could provide.

"I keep feeling…suspicious. There are obvious inconsistencies and cover ups but whoever did it is too good to leave anything that would lead to getting caught. As soon as I think I've figured it out, it slips away."

"Good luck trying to find it, Sansa. We've gone through four CFOs when they got too inquisitive into the company."

"It's not right," Sansa said.

"Never mind the business talk," Margaery complained. "Tell them about your new fan."

"What's this," Renly asked curiously. "I thought you were too busy to date?"

"I am. Margaery's exaggerating."

"I am not! It's Tyrion Lannister," she told her brother and brother-in-law dramatically.

"It is not. I find him annoying and infuriating."

"Not to mention everyone in his family are world class worms," Loras added. "Well, Jaime's not too bad."

"It doesn't matter. I am not attracted to him."

"She thinks he's a conundrum," Margaery stage whispered.

"Will you shut up," Sansa said through a laugh, pushing at her friend. "He made it a point to talk to me every single day this week," she explained to the men. "He'd ask how I was doing or just to let me know what the cafeteria was serving. It was awkward. I'm here to work. I'm not here to make friends. And I'm definitely not here to be hit on by a man who got caught sneaking four women out of his office during his lunch hour." Renly roared with laughter while Loras slapped his knee, trying to catch his breath. "What is so funny?"

"Oh Sansa, hasn't anyone told you about Tyrion Lannister," Loras wheezed.

"What about him?"

"His father never really got on board with the reality that his son was a dwarf. It doesn't matter that Tyrion is twice the man his grandson is, let alone anyone else he considers 'esteemed'. Anyways, Tyrion always got the crap position in the company. He would rise above that and make it better. Finally, his mother convinced Tywin to let him be Lionheart's liaison at GSH. It was supposed to make up for the fact that Joanna couldn't stop Tywin from paying Tyrion's wife to divorce him. But what really makes up for that?"

"Wait, Tywin Lannister paid Tyrion's wife to divorce him?"

"Yeah. He didn't approve of her… former profession."

"Which was?"

"She was a Vegas showgirl," Renly said seriously. "You can imagine how Daddy Lannister felt about that. Ever since then, Tyrion gets a lot of visits from her former colleagues. They like him, try to keep him updated on what she's doing. It's been years since that happened but poor Tyrion hasn't ever gotten over it."

"So he's not sleeping with a boat load of women at the office?"

"Not at all. But there's very little his job requires him to do. It leaves plenty of time for the mind to wander. This is probably why he's taken such an interest in you. Someone has to be there for you and no one's got as much time as him." Sansa reconsidered her impression of the man. She'd had all of one conversation with the man and assumed that she knew everything about him. He had warned her that the company she was at was poison, to run. He'd made an effort, gone out of his way even, to make her feel like she had someone to turn to for help or support. He'd been courteous and friendly to her and she felt ashamed for treating him coldly. She had judged him without giving him the opportunity to make a good first impression. Had she been so determined not to like anyone on her first day that she had really seen only bad qualities in the one person attempting to be her friend?

"I think I've misjudged him," she muttered while Margaery laughed and Renly and Loras shared knowing smiles.

It seemed there was more to Tyrion Lannister than she had thought.


	4. Demons

**You know after that last chapter, things are sorta just starting to fall into place. No more plot confusion!**

**The song for this chapter is Demons by Imagine Dragons. I used the cover by Tyler Ward and Kina Grannis. Check them out. I'm seeing Tyler in a couple months!**

**As always, you can connect with me!****  
****Twitter: teamdemonmonkey****  
****Facebook: teamdemonmonkey fanfiction**

**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard.**

Chapter Four: Demons

Sansa hesitated outside the office door, wringing her hands nervously. What if all her cold civility had burned the bridges Tyrion had been trying to build? A person could only stand so much blatant rejection.

"Sansa, stop," she breathed to herself sharply. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and knocked on the oak door.

"Come in," Tyrion's tired voice called out. She pushed the door open slowly. Tyrion was typing on his computer. She waited nervously before he looked up. His eyes went wide with surprise.

"Sansa?"

"Sorry for bothering you. You're busy. I'll –I'll just go," she said, courage fleeing her.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said quickly. "Come have a seat," he offered, gesturing to a seat across from his. She hesitated then closed the door and sat down across from him, smoothing her skirt nervously. "What can I do for you," he asked. She could still see some surprise in the lines on his face.

"I… um… well, I…" She felt herself growing warm with embarrassment. This was stupid. He didn't care what she thought of him. He was a grown adult.

"Sansa, have you come to tell me that you've murdered my mother and buried her body in the woods?" His voice was serious but his eyes betrayed the signature twinkle of amusement.

"No," she said horrified and confused.

"Then I can't imagine anything you say that would be as horrible as that."

Sansa stared at him and then laughed quietly. "You're right," she said, tension draining from her like water in her cupped hands.

"Now, what can I do for you?"

"I wanted to thank you for everything. You've been especially kind to me and I know that I seemed… cold last week but I genuinely appreciate the effort." Tyrion stared at her, brow furrowed slightly.

"Someone told you about me ex-wife, didn't they," he finally muttered. It was a question but he said it like he already knew the answer.

"Yes," Sansa admitted. He nodded silently.

"Sansa, I was kind to you because my mother raised me to be polite and generous. But I don't need you to reciprocate out of pity." They sat in awkward silence for a few moments.

"I've only ever dated one boy," Sansa said suddenly, breaking the tense silence.

"What?" Tyrion had no idea what this had to do with anything.

"In high school I dated this boy. He was a good kid. His father died when he was little, leaving his mother with nothing. He wanted to make something of himself. When we would go on dates, we'd spend more time with my father or brothers than we did alone. For prom, I was ready a half hour early but we were an hour late because he was involved in a conversation with my dad about stock trends. When I ended things between us, I think he was more devastated that I'd ruined his chances at joining the company than losing me." She stared at her lap, trying to dispel the ghosts of her first love. "I loved him but I was just a name, a connection to him."

"I'm sorry," Tyrion said quietly.

"I'm not looking for your sympathy. I'm saying that I understand what it's like to have someone who is supposed to love you place money or family ahead of loyalty to you. And I'm not being nice out of pity. I'm appalled at my judgmental behavior towards you. I believe everyone should have a chance to make a good impression and I didn't allow you that courtesy. So I apologize." He stared at her mesmerized.

"Sansa Stark, I do believe you may survive us yet," he murmured. She blushed and he found himself endeared by the reaction. "Does this mean we are friends?"

"Yes," she said happily. "I guess I owe Margaery an apology to. She insisted that you were a good man and I refused to believe that."

"You talk about me with your friends," he asked suggestively. Sansa flushed and hurriedly stood from her seat.

"I'm going to go now," she said, backing towards the door. "I have reports to… read." She left the office, Tyrion's warm laughter following her out.

~~~~SIN~~~~~

"How do you like my company," Joff's grating voice asked from behind Sansa.

"It's –it's a great company," Sansa said quickly, covering up her research.

"My father is very proud," he said boredly. "My grandfather expects that we will be in Forbes again this month," he boasted.

"That's wonderful news," Sansa said politely.

"I'll be sure to mention you in the interview. We like to brag about our valuable… _acquisitions_," he oozed, eyes trailing over her and voice laden with innuendo. Sansa felt her stomach turn and the great need to shower. Twice.

"Sansa, please forgive me for being so late. I got caught on a phone call," Tyrion said hastily, placing his try on the table next to hers. She glanced at him, surprised.

"That's all right. Joffrey was just telling me about the company," she offered weakly.

"I didn't realize you had a lunch date," Joff said icily.

"Just helping Sansa get a better idea of the company. For her assessment," Tyrion said offhandedly. "Cersei is looking for you."

"Mother is always looking for me," he whined.

"She said something about a complaint from the Martell's." Joff flushed and hurried away.

"Thank you," Sansa said fervently.

"Always pleased to thwart the disgusting attentions of my nephew."

"Is he always so…"

"Disgusting? Sleazy? Presumptuous?"

"Something like that," Sansa admitted with a smile.

"Yes. The product of being the spoiled son and grandson of two of the most powerful men in the business world. Let's change the subject. He makes me want to vomit. What is your family like?"

'Big. Robb is the oldest. He's married. Jon is my half brother. He's the head of Night's Watch. Then there's me. Not much to say there. Arya is just about to graduate from high school. Brandon is just starting high school and Rickon is ten. We're pretty quiet people. Family dinners aren't anything to get excited about except we're all very close."

"That must be nice," Tyrion mused. "My family is insane. My father is cold and focused completely on business and the family name. My mother is the exact opposite. She's warm and loving, the kind of mom that bakes cookies and hugs you even if you've done something terrible. Cersei and Jaime are twins but Cersei is just like my father. Jaime is quiet and observant but he's always been underestimated. He's a force to be reckoned with. Then there's me. Not much to talk about."

"That's not true. I'm sure there's quite a lot to say."

"Not much good," he acquiesced.

"I don't believe it. Margaery mentioned a benefit the day we met. What was that for?"

"That was merely a diabetes benefit. Not anything noble."

"Rickon is a diabetic. Type one. So I think benefitting research is a very noble act."

"My dear Sansa," he murmured, "you really are determined to see the best in people."

"I see good where it exists. I'm not making your actions appear grander than they are. I merely offer an alternate point of view." He stared at her, eyes alight and a small smile playing at his lips.

"Beautiful, eloquent, articulate and wise. Is there any chance you are merely a figment of my imagination, conjured out of loneliness?" She blushed furiously.

"If you have imagined me then I fear your mind must be a poor, deprived place."

"Now who's selling herself short," he teased. But she offered a valid point; even he couldn't have imagined someone as perfect as she was.


End file.
